


A Spell That Can't Be Broken

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Witch AU, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 11:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4785680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He hears the people around them whisper, saying that he's got this boy under a tragic spell. Niall thinks they've got it all wrong. It's him who's caught under Harry's spell.</em>
</p><p>[Niall's a witch, Harry doesn't know this, and it's all on Niall if this blows up in his face.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Spell That Can't Be Broken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dayinthelife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dayinthelife/gifts).



> I'd like to give a big thanks to dayinthelife for this prompt; it was a lot of fun to write and I hope you enjoy it! Also, to Shannon (brokendrums on AO3) for editing this for me, it would be nowhere near as coherent as it is now if it weren't for you!
> 
> If you read this, I hope you enjoy! :)

The wind nips Niall’s cheeks red; it’s brisk out, the type of cold that almost hurts when you breathe it in. The leaves crunch under his boots, cracking and scattering colourfully on the footpath before being whisked away by the autumn gust. Niall inhales, wincing against the chill invading his lungs. It’s the season where everything feels like Halloween and the only places brave enough to sport decorations are the supermarkets and costume stores. There’s a stray pumpkin lying around on a porch here and there, faceless still, and Niall wonders what they’ll become, if they’ll become anything.

Nothing ever really becomes anything here. Except the jack-o-lanterns, they usually do. Aside from the University coming to life again with returning students and new recruits- who have yet to see how boring this place can actually get- this sleepy little town has been the same ever since Niall’s been small and living with his Gran during the summers. Even the atmosphere stays the same- it always feels like autumn and smells like pumpkin spice.

He walks quickly. Past the park where the crowd has thinned to new parents and children under the age of five since the summer ended. Past the rust-coloured bricks of the shops in town. He pulls his hat further down his face, immediately shoving his hand back into his jacket pocket as he passes the other townsfolk.

There’s Mr Whittaker who never forgave Niall for accidentally bewitching his potted tomatoes when he was eleven; Mrs Blake who indiscreetly pulls her daughter to the side opposite Niall whenever they cross paths, and Ms Whitely, the elderly woman who shouts slurs at him whenever he passes her in the street. 

He’s gotten used to it is what he tells himself, even as he shrinks under her piercing blue glare, flinches as she calls him a heathen loud enough for most of the street to hear. 

It’s not the word that bothers him, she’s using it incorrectly and he never believed in God anyway. 

It’s the way that everyone else turns to look at him and seems to believe her.

Niall sighs, wondering as he maps out the town in his brain if there are any other routes he can take to the shop that avoid Ms Whitely on her morning stroll. There aren’t many. She lives next door to him.

So he tips his head and forces himself to smile like he does every other day and reminds himself that she’d be heartbroken if her mums were to die. She’d also let them if she knew who was actually remembering to water the flowers.

“Mornin’ Ms Whitely,” Niall chirps.

 

&&

 

Zayn tilts his head up when the little bell tinkles above Niall’s head as he steps into the shop. The sleepy good morning and the lazy smile let Niall exhale a sigh of relief. They signal the start of the brighter parts of his day. He breathes in the heavy scent of soap and perfume (lavender and lemongrass at the front, jasmine and warm vanilla towards the back) and feels the stress melt from his shoulders.

“Mornin’, Zayn.”

“Liam’s just ‘round back.”

“Alright, thanks mate.”

Zayn’s smile turns softer, shyer, and he ducks back down to his inventory, penning a list of groceries he’ll need to stock up on for this week. Niall’s lips quirk and he keeps his thoughts to himself as he scoots by the front counter to sneak into the back room.

It’s not big, more a storage area than anything. Liam is already taking up most of the square footage, but Niall manages, throwing his sack and hat against Liam’s stuff despite Liam’s grumpy _you have your own cubby, y’know_. His smile is still warm and his eyes still crinkle when Niall laughs and ignores it with a good morning.

Their little hideaway doesn’t smell as good as it does at the front of Zayn’s soap shop with Liam already mixing something foul. Niall is pretty sure that it’s horse hair and wolfsbane, even though he’s told Liam a hundred times over that moose hair is better for hair loss prevention. He wrinkles his nose as a dark grey smoke poofs above the pot and fans it away as Liam frowns.

“Reckon it’s supposed to do that?”

Niall turns the hotplate off, shooing the smoke away some more.

“You’re supposed to simmer it on low heat for an hour, not flash cook it.”

“I was,” Liam complains. “If we had a proper stove in here-“

“We’d need a lot more than magic to fit a stove in here, Li.”

Liam’s shoulders droop.

“Here,” Niall says. “I’ll start on another batch. This is for Mr Carthers, yeah?”

“Yeah, he’s coming ‘round at noon for it.”

The day really begins from here; Liam hands Niall the moose hairs, takes inventory while dodging quips and jibes about how he should go out into the front of the shop and chat with Zayn while Niall smirks and tries not to let the heaviness in his chest weigh him down too much as he stirs the pot. 

Mr Carthers will come in at twelve exactly, he predicts. The old man always does. Niall will give him the brew and get nothing more than the cost of it counted down to the last penny and a glare. Then, when Niall takes his lunch break he’ll see him hobbling down the street as he tries to get to the sandwich shop unnoticed and Mr Carthers will tell him in a gruff voice that he would burn him at the stake if it were still legal. Niall will still be able to see the bulge of the vial he had given him not minutes ago in his pocket.

Niall finishes the potion at half past eleven and Liam takes over to start setting up for a herbal soother so he grabs a broom and steps out of the back area, careful to avoid knocking the tupperware containers down on his way out. Zayn looks up, almost hopeful, but when Niall nods, his shoulders sag a bit.

“Another soother?”

“You know how Ms Ackerman likes them.”

Unfortunately, the St. John’s Wort is so pungent and bitter that not even the lavender and lemon in the front of the shop can mask it. But it’s better than passing out in the back from the fumes, so Niall takes the broom and starts sweeping the floor for Zayn. It’s the least he can do; Zayn’s done a lot for Liam and him, given them a chance to grow their business when no one else would. He’s the only non-magic in town who doesn’t hate them. Or pity them. And for that, Niall is eternally grateful.

“You know you can just flick your fingers and it’ll sweep for you, right?”

Niall offers a tiny smile.

“I need the fresh air.”

It’s three quarters after when he looks up from the floor to glance outside. At first he thinks he’s hallucinating, seeing the tall figure stride past the windows. But Niall recognizes the slope of his nose, the profile of his lips. His hair’s gotten longer, curls flowing behind him with the autumn breeze. His cheeks are tinted red, and Niall blinks, dazed. Then, in one easy stride, the stranger is gone.

“Niall?”

Niall sucks in a startled breath, the first weightless one of the day, and blinks again.

“Was that him again?”

“Uhm.” And he keeps staring, as if the stranger would suddenly walk back, backwards even. “I- I reckon so, yeah.”

It’s been a whole summer since he’s seen him, but yeah, it’s definitely him.

Niall vaguely registers Zayn chuckling behind him, but he just grips the broom harder in his hands.

“You going to try talking to him this year?”

Niall shakes his head. Because what would the lanky, gorgeous stranger with a bright future without magic ahead of him want with Niall? He’s just a small-town witch with nothing going for him but income from customers who won’t even respect him outside their business deals.

“I think you should,” Zayn says quietly. 

Niall bites the “what about you?” on the tip of his tongue hard.

 

&&

 

“It’s not the same,” Liam argues.

Niall rolls his eyes, one comment away from turning around and leaving Liam to lock up alone for the night. Liam, however, continues on.

“All you have to do is wave or say hello to the bloke.”

“All you have to do is ask Zayn to grab a coffee or lunch.” Niall counters.

“I can’t ask him out.”

Niall doesn’t want to have this conversation. It happened last Monday and the Monday before that. He and Liam get nowhere.

Still, he entertains Liam anyway and asks:

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a witch?” Liam says it like it’s the most obvious fact in the world.

“You… you’re scared to because…” Niall pauses, trying to wrap his head around this for the countless time. “Zayn knows you’re a witch. Zayn. The same Zayn who’s letting us use the back of his shop for our shop? The one who trusts us to lock up after he leaves? I mean, I don’t reckon I’m familiar with a lot of Zayns but-“

“Okay, bloody hell,” Liam snaps.

Maybe he’s getting just as tired of this as Niall is. Niall secretly hopes this drives Liam to action.

“I would have guessed it was something else like he’s too hot for you,” which is debatable, Niall thinks. Liam is that ‘boy next door who grew up to be a complete babe’ type while Zayn- well, Niall reckons Zayn’s probably always been hot. “Or that he’s not into guys.”

“That too,” Liam sighs.

Then again, maybe Liam is less ready than they both thought. Because Liam doesn’t have anything to worry about. At all.

Niall rubs at the back of his neck, discovering a knot, and groans. “I reorganized all the hairs, they’re in the Ziploc bags in the top cabinet. I’ll put the newt tails in tupperware tomorrow. Can you lock up tonight?”

“Yeah, I need to stay anyway. Got a love potion. Can’t make it too strong though, doesn’t want anything serious.”

“More like a one time deal?”

Liam hums in agreement.

“Try maybe using a cat’s eye,” Niall suggests. “Louis said Mr Vickers had to put his cat down the other day.”

Liam’s expression immediately turns sour. “Clinic’s not open at half past eight.”

Niall scoffs. “And Louis can’t be bribed to rifle through the bins?”

Niall realizes that convincing Liam to enlist Louis is a terrible idea after he steps out of the shop, a little afterthought punctuated by the little doorbell chiming cheerfully above his head.

He breathes out, warmth turning to mist in the dipping temperature as he hopes that Louis doesn’t ask for houndsblood like the last time. (Louis forgets that sometimes he’s one of the reasons why this town hates magic).

Niall pulls his jacket tighter, huddling into himself for warmth as he ducks away from the orange glow of the lampposts and starts walking home.

The constellation Delphinus is bright in the sky. It’s the first clear night since the weather cooled down properly and if Niall looks over, he can see Aquila too. It’s a bit dull, but it’ll be just as bright as Delphinus within the next hour.

Niall feels the corners of his lips twitch. Aquila will be shining brightly over his house when he gets back. He’ll snap a photo for Instagram later.

He’s still lost in the stars overhead when he feels the toe of his boot catch the crack in the cement. The stars dip and fall from his vision as he comes crashing back to earth. His hands reach out in front of him ready to scrape the path, but instead grab onto another coat. Niall tumbles into the figure with a yelp of surprise, taking them down with him.

“Christ, fucking shit-“

“Mate, I’ve got nothing on me, I swear-“ the person struggles against Niall.

“I’m so sorry.”

The lump underneath Niall wiggles just enough so that he can turn his head and look up at him. Niall freezes, the lamp overhead flickering with his shock.

“You- you mean you’re not mugging me?”

Niall frowns. “What? No! I- are you alright?”

The stranger looks up at him, green eyes swallowing the light as his chocolate curls sweep the dust on the pavement.

“Yeah, you?”

This is the part where Niall should probably stand up, swipe his jeans and offer a hand to help this bloke up off the ground. But this bloke is also the stranger who passes by Zayn’s soap shop almost everyday like clockwork, has been for three years now without fail, and something just isn’t computing in Niall’s head. Niall’s still gripping at the elbow of his bomber jacket and there’s something about how Niall just fits over the stranger’s stomach that paralyzes his legs.

“Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going- tripped over my own two feet.”

The stranger grins and holds out his hand.

“I’m the same way. Harry, nice to meet you.”

Slightly bemused, Niall takes it- it’s cold in his own, but soft.

“Niall.”

“You know, Niall, I’ve never actually shook someone’s hand quite like this before,” Harry grins.

Oh. _Oh_. 

Niall scrambles to his feet, taking Harry’s hand, and Harry, with him all the way.

“Sorry again. I’ll try to look out for you next time.” Niall cringes, letting go of Harry’s hand before offering an apologetic smile. He’ll try to pretend he didn’t just say that.

But Harry just smiles and all Niall can see are dimples in his cheeks.

“Sorry, where are you headed?”

“Home.” Niall shakes his head. “I mean, I’m that way,” he points past Harry.

“Oh. Well I’m on campus. So I’m kind of over there,” Harry says. Niall looks over his shoulder even though he knows exactly where the university is.

“Alright. Uhm. Well I guess I’ll see you around, mate.”

The farewell seems to be caught on Harry’s tongue, and instead of the goodbye Niall is expecting, Harry’s asking “so you work in town?”

“Uh, yeah.” Niall nods, surprised. “The little soap shop? It’s my friend’s, I just help out a bit here and there.”

Harry’s eyes brighten with recognition.

“Yeah! I’ve been thinking of popping in there quite a few times, always smells amazing. But I mean, I’m usually at the little coffee shop right by the clinic.” Harry breaks off with a shrug. “Poli-Sci. Lots of homework.”

Is that an invitation? That sounds a lot like an invitation to Niall. So he takes the chance and he runs with it, throwing out a “d’you want me to come by and share a coffee with you, then?” before he can think twice. The smile Harry offers gives Niall all the confidence he needs to keep going. “It’s on me. For, you know, tripping you up like that.”

“Sounds about right,” Harry chuckles. “I’m usually there after four.”

Four. Niall can definitely make it around four.

“Right, yeah. Four. Really sorry about that, again.”

Harry smiles, offering Niall a little wink. “ Don’t worry about it, I wasn’t watching either.”

Thankfully, the only other souls out tonight are other university students scurrying around to get to or away from their last classes of the day. There’s no one to sneer at the blush covering Niall’s face, no one to ask him if he’s smiling because he butchered a crow for a wing. There’s just the warm feeling turning in his stomach and Harry’s smile on his mind as he walks home.

Mrs Whitely’s mums are drooping again when Niall steps up onto his doorstep. There’s sure to be water filled to the brim in the little watering can she forgot on her front porch, so Niall smiles to himself, snaps his fingers and watches the watering can shoot up into the air, splashing excess water onto the steps. One flick sends the can over to the pots and another tilts it over, spilling the water onto the parched flowers.

All in all, it could have been worse. Harry could’ve turned out to be a complete tosser. He could’ve also cussed Niall out and kept on walking.

Instead, they have a promising coffee date Niall’s only been fantasizing about for two and a half years now.

Aquila’s still there, shining brighter, when Niall smiles up at the sky and, startled, like he almost forgot what his plans were, he reaches into his pocket and snaps a selfie with the sky.

He’s still grinning when he uploads the photo to Instagram and Aquila disappears, long forgotten over his house as Niall steps inside.

 

&&

 

“You could just not tell him, y’know,” Liam says. The look he gives Niall is sympathetic. Niall hates it.

He had woken up early in the morning in a cold sweat and with a night terror chasing his dreams. It was then Niall realized he couldn’t meet Harry today. It was a mistake to ask him out for coffee because he’ll know Niall is a witch within the first five minutes. Between the two baristas at the cafe asking him what’s brewing every time he stops by-

“Easy,” Liam interrupts Niall’s train of thought. Or what Niall thought he was talking to himself about. “Tell him it’s just a local thing. Slang. He’s been here how long? He knows there’s magic here. Maybe it’s an inside joke between you, Michael, and Luke.”

There are plenty of counter-arguments to this. Namely, if Harry says he frequents the coffee shop as often as he does, he’d hear Michael greet exactly zero other people the same way. Instead, Niall argues: “I use magic to make my tea.”

It’s the first time Niall’s ever gotten an are-you-stupid face from Liam.

“Then stir it yourself.”

Zayn snorts from behind them.

“You’re just trying to bullshit your way out of it now,” he states before turning to Liam. “Do you have any wisteria flowers left? I know it’s a bit late for them now, but…”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll just look around.”

Niall sighs as Liam turns to levitate boxes and vials down from the higher shelves. Zayn joins them in the small space to scavenged through the stuff and suddenly it’s too cramped in the storage closet.

Niall excuses himself, promising Zayn that he’ll sweep the front of the shop and the sidewalk. He doesn’t bother pushing his third point on Liam and Zayn: someone will inevitably call him out, or toss a slur at him, or even worse, ask Harry why he’s hanging out with this guy; he’s a witch, didn’t he tell Harry? No one wants to associate with a witch.

It’s one thing to associate yourself with a stranger, it’s another to associate yourself with a witch in this town. Niall’s almost positive Harry wouldn’t want that. Niall doesn’t want that for Harry.

“His nerves are acting up again,” he hears Zayn whisper to Liam when he grabs for the broom. “He needs to learn how to control his anxiety.”

“I can see where he’s coming from though.”

Niall’s head shoots up and he almost knocks the dustpan over in shock. He’s almost sure Zayn will catch on to this, but all he says is, “how?”

There’s a pause, and Niall’s almost certain Liam is blushing.

“Well, you know how it goes here.”

Niall rolls his eyes, interrupting their little talk when he pops into the storage room for his jacket. He pretends not to pay attention to the guilty glance Zayn and Liam share.

Later, when it’s four o’clock and Liam’s offering to let him off early, he declines. He brushes off Zayn’s insistent “you should go” and says he’ll go tomorrow. Because it’ll make it seem like he’s busy, has important things to do, and therefor Harry will be more interested.

Zayn doesn’t buy it. Liam doesn’t either. Niall believes it even less than both of them.

&&

 

Niall thinks Zayn and Liam have dropped the subject when they don’t pry about the coffee shop meeting the next day. It helps him relax somewhat, and the day goes by like normal. Liam and Zayn tease Niall about his recent nighttime selfie and laugh at the comment Louis left him, and Niall scoffs because in typical Louis fashion, it was rude poked fun at whatever Niall enjoys.

Niall busies himself with making a new batch of potions for the weekend clients and when he’s done, it’s nearing three thirty and Zayn’s popping his head into the little storage room.

“I think you should meet up with Harry today.”

“Really? Thanks for the thought.”

“Were you even going to go today?”

If Niall is being honest with himself, yes. He was. But now, he realizes that it’s useless. He shakes his head.

“I hear he’s pretty friendly with Luke and Michael.”

This catches Niall’s full attention. “Yeah, and?”

Zayn shrugs, looking around the closet. 

“Could’ve dropped your name. Say he was waiting for you yesterday. They could’ve gone ‘oh, Niall? Good bloke, makes really neat potions’.”

Liam sniggers like he really didn’t mean to and quickly composes himself. Niall feels the anger welling up in his chest. They’re setting him up. And they know it’s going to work.

“And then Harry would ask ‘potions? Isn’t that what witches do around here?’ He’d connect the dots by himself. Or, there’s option two, he could ask them about you today after they hear you stood him up yesterday,” Zayn continues.

“Jesus Christ you’re an asshole, Zayn,” Niall snaps. He pushes Zayn out of the way, jacket in hand, and warns Liam to watch the frogspit simmering; it’s their last batch and it can’t burn.

To be fair, Niall muses to himself on his way to the coffee shop, he could’ve told Zayn that he didn’t care if Michael and Luke told Harry or not. If they did, Harry wouldn’t want to see him after that and Niall wouldn’t have to face any kind of humiliation because their paths just wouldn’t cross. Niall stomping his way over to the cafe just reminds Niall that he does care. He cares a lot.

The patrons purposefully ignore Niall after they realize who’s walked into the coffee shop. Thankfully, Harry isn’t there yet and Michael waits until after Niall reaches the counter to ask him, “Niall! What’s brewing?”

“Frogspit.”

Michael wrinkles his nose. “Lovely. Any coffee to go with that?”

“Earl Grey.”

Michael doesn’t budge from his perch on the counter, just tosses Luke a mug. “Luke, you’re up.”

Luke glares at Michael, barely catching the cup with an annoyed scoff.

“You’ve done shit all today, Mike.”

Michael fakes a wounded look. “I’m keeping you company. That’s hard work as it is.”

Niall tunes out their bickering as Luke brews his tea, wondering just how he’s going to broach the subject of Harry. Then Michael throws a chocolate muffin at him, saying it’s on the house. It hits Niall square in the chest and he has to mutter a quick incantation to keep it off the ground.

“Hey, nice catch!”

Niall nearly drops the muffin again at the sound of Harry’s voice and his heart speeds up as he turns around to face him because this is it, there’s no way Harry didn’t just see him levitate a muffin in thin air.

But Harry’s smiling down at him, looking impressed, and not once does he ask “how’d you do that?”

Niall blinks. Maybe Harry didn’t actually see him use magic.

“Hey, Harry! How do you and Niall know each other?” Luke hands Niall his tea and grabs another cup from under Michael.

“Oh, we just bumped into each other the other night.”

Niall probably should offer to get them both a seat, because he’s normally a nice and courteous person. But not right now, not when-

“Niall was probably trying to-“

Out of sheer panic, Niall focuses on the mugs behind the counter, sending one crashing to the floor.

“What the-“ both Luke and Michael jump back, surveying the damage. When Michael looks back up, Niall shoots him a threatening glare. Immediately, the boy gets it.

“I was stargazing. Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Michael says distractedly. “I’ll just clean this up.”

Thankfully, Luke and Michael don’t say much else, and once Harry’s got his herbal tea, Niall tells him he can pick out a booth.

“What the fuck was that,” Michael hisses as Harry walks away.

“You can’t let him know I’m a witch!” Niall snaps. “It’ll fuck everything up!”

“You didn’t have to break a mug,” Luke frowns, sweeping the shards up.

“Oh sorry, I’ll just go right out there and say ‘hey guys, don’t tell Harry I’m a witch’ right in front of him!”

“What’s the big deal?” Michael reasons. “Bloke’s super sweet and would probably think it’s cool.”

“No one thinks it’s cool,” Niall deadpans.

“Calum does.” Luke shrugs. 

That’s because Michael and Calum have been best friends since before Michael started showing the signs and Calum wasn’t raised by magic-haters. 

“Ashton likes it too,” Michael adds.

“Who’s Ashton?”

Michael smirks while Luke blushes furiously, then elbows him when he doesn’t speak up. “Yeah, Luke. Tell Niall about Ashton.”

Instead, Luke’s eyes dart everywhere in favour of meeting Niall’s own.

Finally, all he can come up with is a “he’s, uhm. He’s cute.”

Michael snorts. “Ash is the really cute music major who comes in at seven everyday. Long flowing golden locks he ties back, though Luke prefers it if he’s rocking the half-up man bun-”

Luke smacks Michael across the arm in return, an adamant “no I don’t” tumbling quickly from his mouth. Niall guesses it’s a lie. But-

“Wait, he knows? Does anyone else?”

“No one else was here,” Luke lowers his voice. “Michael was sleeping late, again, and no one’s inside that early.”

“Basically he spilled something on Ashton-“

“I didn’t spill it on him,” Luke corrects. “I caught the cup. In the air. With magic.”

“So basically he just ninjas it like-“ Michael begins narrating the scene, complete with sound effects and hand gestures before Luke shushes him.

“Now Ashton has the biggest fanboy crush on Luke ever,” Michael beams.

“Does not,” Luke mumbles, going red again.

Michael ignores this. “And that’s why Harry will too. Plus he’s been staring over here for the past five minutes, so you should go back over.”

Niall’s cheeks flush with embarrassment, so he slams a note down on the counter for the muffin, effectively blowing his own cover when Michael shouts at him that it was for free.

“Sorry I didn’t come ‘round yesterday,” Niall apologizes, taking the seat opposite Harry. “The shop got super busy.”

Harry shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Taking a chance to glance around, Niall’s eyes meet with what he expected them to. The other townsfolk are looking his way, shooting him dirty looks whether he sees them or not. They don’t care. They want him to know he’s unwelcome. But there’s something else this time, there’s curiosity too, curious as to why this stranger would sit with him and chat like they’re old friends. He can tell a few of the older ones want to interrupt, crowd his and Harry’s space and ask just what he’s doing with Niall, Niall’s a _witch_.

If Harry notices at all, he doesn’t let on, just smiles brightly and asks “what’s your favourite scent?”

Niall has to stop himself from laughing. Of all the ice-breaker questions he’s been asked, this one is by far the weirdest; but he entertains Harry anyway, giving it some thought before he says “jasmine. Jasmine and vanilla. They’re the first thing I smell when I walk into work everyday and it’s- it’s nice.” Niall cuts himself off there, not wanting to get too deep for Harry within the first fifteen minutes. He changes the subject quickly.

“You?”

“I just like whatever smells good, to be honest,” Harry grins. “I just figured, if you made soaps, you’d have a personal preference. Is it difficult?”

“What, making soap?” Niall reminds himself to manually put the sugar in his tea and then stir the spoon himself. Harry nods, and thankfully, Zayn’s taught Niall a thing or two about soap-making in the few years they’ve worked together. “Well, the main thing you need is lye, and you mix that into the water.”

Niall doesn’t realize it, but he gets carried away; explaining soap of all things. He tells Harry how dangerous the lye is, tells him not to mix the soap making utensils with the kitchen utensils because it’s a terrible idea even if washed.

Harry looks fascinated.

“And after that, you can basically put in whatever you want in, oils, herbs, stuff like that.”

“So that’s your passion? That’s what you do here?” The overly earnest expression on Harry’s face is almost disappointing. Niall’s stomach drops, and he stirs the spoon in his mug some more, still not over how weird it is to be doing it himself again.

“I like space. Astronomy. Astrology, not so much.”

“I’m into music,” Harry states it like he understands, “but I guess political science isn’t half bad. Did you know the university has an observatory? Or I think that’s what they’re called, not the planetariums, this one actually has a big telescope.”

“Oh?” Niall does know about the observatory, but he doesn’t know much on the university’s policy on visitors so he’s never really bothered. “Have you seen it?”

“I’ve never been,” Harry admits, “but I reckon it’d be neat to check out someday.”

The conversation flows easier after that. Harry talks and talks and talks, sharing childhood stories and escapades with wild hand gestures and Niall laughs like he hasn’t in a long time. Somehow, after a couple of hours he’s managed to make Niall feel like they’ve been friends for years. Niall can’t believe he actually spent two years waiting and hoping for something just like this as Harry walked by the shop every day. 

Then, just like a spell breaking, Niall’s distracted by another small rush of students coming in. Niall would have ignored them like the last couple, but this group has Harry frantically looking around for the time.

“Shit, oops sorry, gotta run, I have class in about five minutes.” Harry pauses and the bag that’s swinging from his shoulder thumps Niall in the side. “Sorry! I’ll see you around then, Niall.”

“Yeah, it was nice talking to you!” Niall says, suddenly desperate for more of Harry’s time. He regrets it as soon as it’s out of his mouth, the sound of his voice edging on pathetic as Harry moves away.

The departing smile Harry gives Niall makes Niall feel a little less self-conscious after that comment.

 

&&

 

Niall may or may not plan to meet Harry at the coffee shop the day after. Harry seems genuinely surprised and happy when Niall sits down next to him at a table for two, and whatever ignorant or scornful glare thrown their way he doesn’t notice, or is very good at ignoring. Either way, it helps Niall breathe easier.

Zayn and Liam exchange knowing looks in the next week, noticing Niall’s mood has improved and brightened immensely. He’s been disappearing everyday around four to return at half past five with a grin on his face and a bounce in his step.

“If it were me, I’d say things were going pretty well,” Liam comments when he catches Niall typing away on his phone again. Last time they’d met, Harry had slipped his number over the table at the coffee shop with a cheeky grin. “Are these little meet-ups actual dates?”

Niall flips Liam off and goes back to texting Harry.

 

&&

 

Niall supposes he should worry a little more about Harry finding out. So far, Harry’s been impervious to the rude glares and staring in the streets, but now the people are talking. Niall can hear it in the wind rustling through the trees when he walks home at night. The leaves whisper things like “what’s he doing with a witch?” and “doesn’t he know?” and “that Niall Horan’s got him bewitched”.

On the rare nights Harry meets up with Niall as he closes up the shop (in exchange for getting an hour off to meet up with Harry in the afternoon), Niall thinks they’ve got it all wrong. Harry will laugh at something stupid he’s said, dimples digging into his cheeks as his eyes sparkle when they look back down at Niall. It’s Niall who’s the one caught under Harry’s spell.

 

&&

 

Liam does have a point.

“I’m just saying, Niall. Harry’s going to find out sooner or later. I’ve heard the trees talking too, they’re saying someone’s going to tell Harry.”

Niall slams the vial down onto the shelf. He shouldn’t be this protective, this secretive over Harry, but he’ll be damned if someone rats him out.

“Who?”

Liam sighs. “I don’t know. Everyone’s talking, it’s bound to come out sometime. I think it’s best you tell him, just have him catch you using magic to stir your tea or sweep the front or something.”

Niall shakes his head. Liam does have a point but that doesn’t mean Niall wants to listen. Selfishly, he thinks he’ll take all the time in the world before he has to tell Harry, if it means spending more time with him before Harry inevitably doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

“It’s going to be your fault,” Liam warns.

Niall doesn’t reply, doesn’t want to, but the bell on the front door tinkling shocks them both. It’s noon, the locals don’t come around until the weekend, and tourists and students usually stumble in in the afternoon.

“Look,” Liam sighs, turning back to Niall. “All I’m saying is that it’s better than him finding out from someone else, right?”

Before Niall can reply, his senses are overwhelmed with Harry’s familiar energy, and Zayn’s startled “oh” is all it takes to send Niall crashing out of the storage closet, forgetting all about Liam’s mini lecture.

“Hey, Harry!” Niall waves, shutting the door behind him right in Liam’s face. There’s a muffled groan of pain, but Niall ignores it, willing Liam to shut up. Zayn looks back and forth between Harry and Niall, amused.

It’s Harry who goes in for the hug first, wrapping Niall up in the residual cold still clinging to his jacket. Despite the chill, Niall still melts against him, and if it’s longer than what constitutes as a normal hug, Zayn doesn’t say anything.

“Hey, I’m just on break so I decided to drop by. The place is lovely.”

“Thank you,” Zayn interjects before Niall gets the chance. “I’m Zayn, I own it.”

Harry sticks his own hand forward, taking Zayn’s offered one.

“Niall’s told me a lot about you.”

“Liam’s just in back,” Zayn says.

On cue, Liam bursts through the back door, rubbing his head where there’s already a bruise forming.

“He’s new,” Niall lies.

Liam wrinkles his nose towards Niall as he walks over to Harry, shaking hands as well. “I help mix things. ‘M kind of like a potions master.”

Liam must think he’s hilarious. Niall hates him for it.

Harry’s eyes light up.

“No way! I’ve heard there was a little potion shop in town, witches here or something. Not sure if I believe it or not, but it’s pretty intriguing.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” Zayn laughs.

Niall’s stomach twists as he realizes how much fun Zayn and Liam are having with Harry- at Niall’s expense. He hopes they’re happy and fully aware of the fact that the only reason why he isn’t cursing them both is because Harry’s here.

“Anything you’d recommend?” Harry asks once Zayn and Liam quit joking with him. Zayn looks ready to jump in, but Harry’s looking at Niall expectantly. “I smell something really nice and citrusy.”

And thank god, Niall knows that one. He picks up a bar, swirled with creamy white and pastel orange and offers it to Harry.

“This one’s really good.”

Harry takes it, sniffing a couple of times. “What are the bits in it?”

“Uh, orange peel. It, uhm. Exfoliates.”

Zayn’s cough sounds strangled behind Niall, and even Harry looks up, bewildered.

“Really?”

“Yep.” 

Niall can see the way Harry writes it off as a lie, like he doesn’t quite buy it. He buys the bar of soap anyway.

Harry grabs the bag from Zayn, thanking him profusely and telling him how nice it is to meet him before turning to Niall. “I’ll text you when I’m out of class so we can meet up tonight, okay?” And then, before Niall can say anything, Harry leans in close, pecking a quick kiss to his cheek before he walks out the shop.

Stunned, Niall doesn’t turn back to see the ‘oh you poor sap’ written all over Zayn’s face.

 

&&

 

When Niall walks by the park on his way to the soap shop the next morning, there’s a little girl tugging her father by the hand as she giggles ahead of him. Niall grins to himself, watching as she picks up pebbles and throws them around. Suddenly, one by one they all start floating in midair and Niall’s grin slips right from his face. It’s been a while since he’s seen anyone other than Louis or Liam practice magic outside the shop or in public, and the little girl must be new at this. Judging by the way her father reacts, a horror-stricken look on his face as he watches the pebbles floating in midair, it might even be her first incident. Her father swats the pebbles down from the air, then her hand, and Niall can imagine what he’s saying as his voice rises, tense and strict, as he points his finger down at her.

The pain squeezes inside Niall’s chest as he chooses to walk away from the scene. He had always been discouraged from using magic in public, but never so vehemently and from such a young age. He can’t watch as the little girl’s face drops, so he hurries on towards the shop.

 

&&

 

“Hey Niall?”

Niall looks over from the pot of simmering moose hair, the little girl from this morning still fresh in his memory.

“Hm?”

“Did Luke text you?” Liam asks.

“Haven’t checked my phone, why?”

“He just said Michael hasn’t come in yet today. He’s never this late, but apparently he’s in one of those ‘emo’ moods,” Liam air-quotes.

Niall frowns. “Tell Luke I could take a walk around town and see if he’s around? I’ll be quick, and watch the potion, I don’t want it to burn again.”

Liam nods.

It takes Niall all of five minutes to find Michael, and when he does, all he hears are enraged yowls and hisses coming from a tousled black cat in the park. Then, he recognizes his old classmates.

“Shit, hey! Get the fuck away from that cat!” Niall jogs across the lawn just in time for the attackers to look up, giving Michael enough time to bite the hand around his waist and gallop to Niall.

“Ow! Fucking bitch,” the first boy curses.

“Oi, is it yours?” The second asks. “Is it your ‘familiar’ or whatever you witches call them?”

Michael hisses and growls from behind Niall’s leg and the two boys laugh. Niall clenches his hands tightly at his sides, knowing they’re looking for a fight.

“You knew Clifford was a freak too, didn’t you?” The boys start to step closer, and right when Niall thinks it’d be a good time for Michael to change back, he looks back to find the cat backing up, back arched and tail up. “Are Hemmings and Hood too? Should’ve known you lot stick together.”

There’s another threatening growl coming from Michael at his friends’ names, but Niall supposes that the fight is all his from this point on.

“Don’t come any closer,” he warns.

“Or what?” The boys start to laugh again. “You’ll turn us into frogs?”

In a split second they lunge at Niall, grabbing both his shoulders to tackle him to the ground. Niall hits it with a violent cough, all the air knocked out of his lungs with the weight of his two ex-classmates too much to handle. He smacks his head against the boy’s on the left of him, earning a grunt of pain and it takes a disorientated second to pull his arm free and snap his fingers in front of the other. Bright white and yellow sparks fly before his eyes, dazzling them both for the moment he needs to scramble up and onto his feet.

“Fuckin’ useless,” he huffs when he spots Michael pacing around a good few feet away, eyes keen on the fight.

Then, the back of his jacket is grabbed, and he’s pushed down to the ground face first. Pain explodes from his bottom lip where his teeth dig in, and when he swipes his tongue across, he can taste the blood immediately. He spits the offensive metallic taste out, only to be rolled over and punched directly in the nose.

“Fuck!” Niall grabs the boy’s collar so he can land a punch as well. It’s more off-centre than he’d like, but it buys him more time to gain a footing again. This time, he’s ready when they both come at him again, pushing his hands out in front of him to produce a bigger burst of blue light to send them both flying back a few good feet. He takes the moment they’re groaning on the grass to run, but as soon as he turns back to find Michael, he finds the cat sitting there, but with Harry standing at his side.

With one look, Niall knows it’s too late. Harry’s seen it, what Niall can do, and he looks angry. Livid. For lack of anything to say, Niall slides his thumb across his lip, now throbbing in pain, and looks down to find it a shiny red.

Harry starts marching towards Niall, not even acknowledging him when he stutters out Harry’s name. He pushes Niall to the side, and when Niall looks back, Harry’s standing between him and the two boys already on their feet again.

“I suggest you turn around and walk away before anyone else gets hurt.”

They must see Harry as a bigger threat, because they scowl and groan and spit towards his feet, but they do start limping away. Then, Harry’s turned towards Niall before they’re at a safe distance.

“What was that?” Harry asks in disbelief.

Niall only hears sheer stupidity in the question. “Well, what the fuck did it look like?” He spits, still running high on adrenaline. He winces when Harry visibly flinches. “You saw it, didn’t you? Because there’s your proof! Witches exist! Niall’s a witch!”

The instant he realizes he’s flailing his arms, he drops them to his sides. Harry follows the movement wordlessly, and for the first time since they’ve properly met, Niall thinks he’s actually speechless.

Cautiously, Harry says, “you lied to me?”

Niall swallows hard, trying to meet Harry’s eyes.

“I- I didn’t.”

“By omission!” Harry shouts.

“Well look at me, Harry! I’m a witch! There’s a reason you keep things like that to yourself around here, you saw what just happened. No one wants my kind here.”

“But you still lied to me! About everything!”

“Fucking Christ, Harry! Cause I knew this was how you’d react!”

“Do you even work at the soap shop?” At Harry’s shrill tone, Niall shuts down completely, shoving roughly past Harry to get out of the park. Once on the footpath, he turns back, shrugging his shoulders towards Harry.

“I don’t know what to tell you mate,” he says bitterly. Without much else to say, he turns back and walks away.

He only knows Michael is still following him from the concerned mewl that follows him as he walks down the path.

“Don’t know why you’re walking around like that,” Niall bites, glaring at passersby staring as he talks down to a cat. “They’re gonna know by tomorrow. Might as well change right now in the middle of town.”

Michael doesn’t change until they’re back in the safety of Zayn’s soap shop, and when he does, he looks terribly, terribly sorry.

“Niall?” Zayn asks, hopping over the counter to meet him. “Fuck, what happened?”

“Michael’s what happened,” Niall snaps, wincing away when Zayn tries to dab a paper towel to his lip.

“Niall, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought him,” Michael tries to apologize, but Niall ignores him as he shoves past Zayn.

“Niall, Jesus, tell me what happened,” Zayn says, drawing Liam’s attention from the back.

“I saw Harry walking down the street and Niall needed help, he was outnumbered and he wouldn’t use his magic,” Michael explains. “I stuck with Harry until he knew something was wrong and followed me.”

Liam’s mouth falls open, but it’s Zayn who manages the question, “he saw?”

Livid and not up to the chorus of ‘I told you so’s, Niall stalks back to the storage room and slams the door behind him.

 

&&

 

After two days of silence, Harry only texts Niall once: _So we’re really not going to talk about this??_

Niall doesn’t respond. Zayn and Liam think it’s over for good. Niall thinks so too.

Niall doesn’t see Harry at the coffee shop when he passes by, but then again, there aren’t many people at the coffee shop once word gets around that Michael can shapeshift.

Thankfully, no one tells Niall they told him so. At least not to his face.

Five days after Harry finds out, Harry texts again: _Meet at Morisset in fifteen?_

Niall glances at the clock. He had to stay late brewing some orders for the weekend customers, so it’s nearing eleven.

It’s followed by an _I’ll stop bothering you if you don’t want to meet._

Niall spends a good five minutes chewing down his fingernails before locking up the storage room and the soap shop. If Harry was done, he wouldn’t have even texted Niall the first time after the fight. Harry’s trying, so Niall guesses he should start trying a little bit harder too.

Instead of heading home, he heads towards the university.

 

&&

 

Niall hasn’t ventured around the campus very much, especially this late at night when everything seems different in the dark, but he knows Morisset is the main building, the biggest with bricks so faded they’re a burnt pink rather than a deep russet. The ivy has all withered away and died by this time of year, but the vines are still clinging to the brick, crawling over the wear and tear of the building.

Relief washes over Harry’s face as soon as he spots Niall. Suddenly, Niall is riddled with guilt because it’s not anger, and it’s not fear like he was expecting. Harry engulfs him in a strong hug, mumbling a soft hello into his ear before Niall is hugging back just as tightly. He missed this. 

For a second, he thinks Harry is going to kiss him when they pull back. And even though Niall has his reservations and questions as to why Harry would after what Niall said to him, Niall doesn’t think he’d mind. But Harry just takes his hand and tugs him along.

“Wanted to show you something,” Harry explains.

And when they get closer to their destination, Niall sees why.

The observatory towers above them, and Harry opens the door without a fuss.

“Harry, is this-“

“I figured it wouldn’t be a very useful observatory if it can’t be used when it’s most useful, y’know?”

Niall doesn’t fight, just lets Harry lead him around, up the stairs until they’re directly under the open dome. Niall inspects the telescope with awe.

“Can I-?”

“Have a look? I would reckon so.” Harry grins.

Niall steps closer, looking up into the lens. His mouth parts, mind blown away with the view as the stars, bigger and brighter than he’s ever seen them, dancing in front of his eye. He just spots Aquila when Harry’s hand rests on his shoulder.

“Well?”

“It’s fuckin’ sick, Harry. Here,” Niall steps out of the way, gesturing towards the telescope.

Harry nods in approval and for the next half hour, they battle it out for a turn with the telescope. When Niall looks back to find out why Harry isn’t nudging him away anymore, he finds him laying out a blanket on the floor. Curious, Niall walks over.

“I was also thinking we could talk,” Harry explains, plopping down onto the blanket.

Niall sighs, scratching the back of his head before chewing on a cuticle. He knew this was coming, but that doesn’t stop the nerves from coming back. Reluctantly, he sits down too, offering nothing to the conversation.

“We didn’t have any witches back in Holmes Chapel,” Harry finally says, quickly amending with, “if there were, they certainly kept quiet about it and no one had a clue. I thought it was a cool idea, but I didn’t really believe it because I wasn’t seeing it. Then I couldn’t believe it when I saw you fight those blokes. And the cat was Michael?”

“It was shit of me not to tell you,” Niall admits.

“I thought things were going really well between us,” Harry frowns up at the sky, lying back. “I should’ve known though, you can’t even tell me what proper soap to buy.”

Niall laughs. “Of all the things, you’re ticked off I don’t actually know my soaps?”

Harry grins, but says “I thought that was what you liked though, I thought you were the cute bloke who made soap for a living with his best friend and I thought that was what you wanted to do with your life. You lied about what you want to get out of life, that’s pretty important.”

“I make potions,” Niall divulges. “Liam and I. In the back of Zayn’s shop, there’s a little storage room that I can never stay in long because I’m claustrophobic and it always smells like shit.” Somehow, telling the truth feels good this time around.

“And what can you do with magic?”

Niall shrugs, staring back up at the night sky. “Nothing unlike the movies. We don’t need wands though. And if you’re practiced enough you don’t have to articulate spells.”

“Can you show me something?” Harry asks.

Niall thinks for a second, then starts stirring his finger in the air. Sparkles burst in midair inches from their faces, following the clockwise rotation, spinning like an entire miniature galaxy right above them. Then, Niall snaps his fingers and the sparkles burst, falling and sticking to their faces like glitter.

“That was wicked,” Harry gapes. Niall turns to him, taken slightly aback with how pretty he looks like this, smiling, literally glowing.

For the first time, Niall feels like his magic is appreciated and his chest wells with the feeling. And all he can say is, “can we start over?”

Harry immediately sticks his hand out with a grin.

“My name’s Harry, I study political science here and I like music.”

Niall takes it.

“Niall. I like astronomy, but not astrology. I’m also a witch, so I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all.” Harry giggles. Then he whispers, “can you do that glitter thing again?”

Niall obliges, creating another galaxy full of constellations and stars, spinning it around and around their heads. Niall doesn’t know how long he’s been stirring his magic, but when he explodes the makeshift galaxy, Harry’s already looking at him. Looking at him like he’s busy discovering new constellations in the freckles speckled across Niall’s skin.

Somehow, Niall doesn’t think he’ll get that first kiss from Harry tonight, no matter how much he wants it or how much it’d feel right. But Harry takes Niall’s hand in his as he looks back up at the night sky through the dome and it’s a start.


End file.
